Fate Fulfilled
by Isaleah
Summary: Change a decision and you may change the course of history. But do not try to trick fate or negotiate with it; this would be vain endeavour.
1. Part I

**Title:** Fate Fulfilled

**Rating:** PG-13 (violence)

**Summary:** Change a decision and you may change the course of history. But do not try to trick fate or negotiate with it; this would be vain endeavour. Another one of the infamous 'what if'-stories, set directly after Hero (Season 1/09).

**Disclaimer:** Thanx Joss Whedon for those nice characters

**Note:** My debut, one short story split in two parts. I didn't even bother trying to give Doyle an Irish accent - that would've sounded silly anyway since I'm no native speaker, so please use your imagination for that.

_It's choice – not chance – that determines your destiny. (__Jean Nidetch)_

*** * ***

"You try our patience." Both Oracles looked down on him with a disapproving expression on their faces, while He spoke. "What is done –"

"Cannot be undone", Angel interrupted. "I know. You keep saying that. But I need Doyle. You can fold time. You've done it before. Bring him back."

"To what end? To nullify his noble death? To leave his atonement unfulfilled?" Her voice was a mixture of anger and light compassion, but Angel did not let them mislead him from his purpose.

"If it means he lives."

"He doesn't so that you may." He obviously didn't share Her compassion, but nevertheless She shared Her brother's opinion. Still, She found softer words.

"You do so that others will."

She hit Angel's soft spot, but he was still not distracted from his goal.

"He was my friend."

Compassion filled Her voice again.

"If it is so, then so shall it ever be."

"But this is of no consequence", Her brother fell in, in Their distracting manner of continuing each other's argumentation.

"The war rages on."

"Do not come to us again on so self-serving matter."

Angel already felt he had lost; still he had one argument that They couldn't brush aside.

"There's one consequence, even by your generous standards. Doyle was my sole contact to the Powers That Be. Without his visions, I'm fighting blind."

Angel went over the top; the male Oracle was on the verge of losing temper.

"Do not question the Powers That Be. Your grief is of little significance. All will soon be made clear." He turned around, but His sister still looked into Angel's angry eyes.

"Wait, brother…"

He turned around, his gaze searching the eyes of His sister, and then facing Angel again.

"Your wish shall be granted. But remember: Do not try to trick fate or negotiate with it; this would be vain endeavour."

As it became evident that the Two would say no more, Angel turned around and headed for the door.

"It seems he has to learn it the hard way…"

But Angel did not bother listening any more.

*** * ***

Angel blinked. It took him a second until he understood where he was. Or rather: _when_ he was. He was standing on the platform again, the light from the Beacon becoming brighter and brighter. But instantly he knew what to do, now that he got a second chance. He didn't waste any more precious seconds discussing with Doyle or reassuring Cordelia like he did the first time, but immediately changed to his vampire appearance, jumped without hesitation and grabbed around the grating that surrounded the Beacon. Behind him, he heard Cordelia and Doyle shout, but he didn't bother turning his head. He could feel the almost unbearable pain of the light on his skin, so he knew he didn't have much time left.

Cordelia, on the platform, grabbed Doyle's arm, her eyes filled with tears.

"No, Angel…"

Doyle stood dumbstruck next to her; he squeezed Cordelia's arm between his fingers, but she didn't even notice. Then he found his voice again, which was a mere whisper.

"Come on, Angel, old boy… you can do it. Come on!"

Angel quickly grabbed the power supply cable and pulled. He felt he didn't have much time anymore; the terrible bright light already tore on his skin and left huge dark-red, burned marks on his face and on his hands. He could only guess what a struggle it must have been for Doyle, who would have done just the same when the light had been so much brighter. The beams forced him into his human form and ate through his face, where he hardly had any skin left. Gathering all of his strength for one final pull, he dragged the cable apart - and then felt his muscles refusing to obey.

*** * ***

Cordelia screamed as she saw his body fall down; she didn't even seem to notice whether he was successful. While she ran towards the ladder, Doyle looked up to the Beacon, whose light shone dimly in an afterglow. Somehow he felt that something was strange, that something was not as it was meant to be. He had a weird feeling that it should have been him who had jumped – he was not jealous of Angel and his act of bravery; he just had the slight feeling that he missed the one chance to atone for his deed. But these thoughts occupied him for no more than two seconds, and then he was running after Cordelia.

Down in the cargo hold the Listers circled around Angel and Cordelia, who dropped to her knees next to the unconscious vampire, tears streaming down her face.

"Angel…"

She lifted his head, hardly knowing where to touch it, since most of his skin was gone, revealing the muscles underneath. Doyle was next to her in an instant and put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't dare to ask if Angel was still with them – and he didn't know how to check the vital signs of a vampire. Cordelia came to the same conclusions and first looked helplessly at him and then at Angel again.

"Angel?! Come on… say something, please!"

She slapped him a few times, and as it didn't have any visible results, she started to sob, which suddenly was joined by a feeble voice.

"It's my fault… if I hadn't been so late, he would still be alive… We would've been here earlier and…" Rieff couldn't endure the pressure any more. Doyle, who was kneeling beside Cordelia now, looked up on him.

"That's not true, Rieff. We arrived before he did. It was the Scourge, not you. Really."

Doyle looked down at Angel again as Cordelia made a little squeaking noise.

"He moved!"

The elder Lister, who was standing on Angel's other side, nodded. "He's beginning to heal, look. In this case we're really lucky that vampires heal fast. No one would have survived such severe burns."

Indeed it looked like Angel's face had recovered a little skin while the attention had shifted to Rieff and Doyle.

And now it was visible to all: Angel was wincing, and then he suddenly uttered a little groan.

"Angel? My goodness, you're still alive… un-dead… whatever!!"

Cordelia broke into nervous giggling and hugged him tightly.

"Be careful, Cordy, those burns must be as painful as hell."

"Doyle…" Angel's voice was still barely audible, for he could hardly move his burned lips.

"Angel? I'm here. You did it, man!"

"Doyle… you… alright?"

"Sure am. You're the hero, lad."

Angel slowly opened his eyes and looked into Cordelia's troubled face and Doyle's empathetic but yet worried smile.

"Great to see you guys…"

*** * ***

"Damn, this was close…"

Angel heard the familiar voice while was lying on the sofa in the office, Cordelia sitting next to him and Doyle leaning on the wall. He could hardly remember how he got here; he guessed Doyle must have brought the car to the harbour. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep or unconscious, while Cordelia treated his face, arms and hands with an ointment Doyle had supplied from a special demon's drug store.

His thoughts wandered to the marvellous effects his plead had caused. In an instant he decided that this time he would not tell them he meddled with fate again. Last time his decision affected himself, but this time it was entirely different; this time he ignored a choice someone else had made. Maybe Doyle would understand. The fact that now all three of them had survived proved that no sacrifice had to be made at all, but still he didn't want him to feel like he had stole Doyle's moment of glory out of selfishness. Moreover, even if Doyle understood his gesture right, which was likely, he didn't want his friend to be uncomfortable or overly grateful when they were working together in future.

Cordelia stopped applying the lotion and slowly he opened his eyes.

"Hey…"

"Welcome back to the living, Angel." Cordelia's voice was uncommonly warm and caring, and he could hear the worries she had suppressed.

"…welcome home. You gave us quite a fright."

"Yeah, we already thought we'd need to find real jobs, you know… do you pay Doyle any money, after all?" Now that was more like the Cordy Angel knew.

"Not funny, princess." Doyle shook his head, yet smiling.

"So? Don't think I approve your pennilessness."

"You won't get away so easily, Cordy. I took your statement on the ship for an invitation to an invitation."

"You still need to invite me in the first place, prat."

"True. Tomorrow, 8 o'clock?"

"Okay. And don't think you can take me out to one of those lousy loser-pubs of yours."

Angel remembered the talk he had with Doyle about him not daring to invite Cordelia, which seemed so long ago. He smiled slightly in Doyle's direction, who winked at him over Cordelia's shoulder, while she was looking down at Angel again. That was exactly what Angel wanted to hear: his two companions quarrelling about nothing. But also in general he felt much better now. The skin on his face was nearly recovered, and he could move his limbs again, even though it still hurt. He tried to sit up.

"Don't move… thirsty? Doyle can bring you some."

Angel nodded. "How are the Listers?"

While Doyle set off for the fridge, Cordelia smiled reassuringly. "They're on the way and send their greetings. They would have liked to stay, but, you know…" Angel nodded.

*** * ***

Cordelia looked into the mirror. She felt a little bad about leaving Angel alone tonight, who was still not fully recovered yet, despite his for human standards quite astonishing vampire healing. On the other hand she knew Angel long enough to know that he wouldn't want them to be all caring about him anyway.

"What do you say, Dennis? Can I go out like this?"

She wore a long figure-hugging black dress which, as she knew, would make Doyle grasp for breath when he was finally seeing her. Dennis waved her handbag in the air to show his consent. Even though he usually was not too enthusiastic about Cordelia going out with other men, Doyle was an exception. At least he helped her to free him out of his prison behind the wall and from his devilish mother.

She just took a last look into the mirror to check her lipstick, when the doorbell rang.

"Dennis, can you please open the door? I need another minute."

The handbag landed softly next to the bathroom door, and while she applied some more lipstick she heard the door open and a familiar voice speaking.

"Hi Dennis. You look fine, lad – hey, come on, that was a joke. Cordy's not ready yet, I suppose?"

"30 seconds!" she yelled through the flat.

She had been right – when she left the bathroom and stood in front of him, he could not avoid staring at her out of wide and sparkling eyes, dumbstruck. She wouldn't be Cordelia if she didn't enjoy the effect she could cause on men, so she cheekily smiled at him.

"Will you spend the rest of the evening standing there and staring, or can we actually go out?"

"Ehm…" He cleared his throat and forced himself to move again. "You look marvellous, princess."

Laughing, Cordelia noticed with ease that he proved a little taste at least for that night. He wore his black leather jacket and a green shirt without any of the creepy patterns he so much liked - and which, as she noticed, matched perfectly with his emerald eyes.

"Okay… let's go then."

*** * ***

Being quite a nice night after a wonderful evening, they decided to walk home, as it was just a fifteen minutes walk to Cordelia's flat.

"So what do you think – could I at least come near your standards?"

Cordelia smiled, but of course she wouldn't make it too easy for him.

"I didn't even expect you to know the meaning of 'hors-d'œuvre', so it wasn't that hard to exceed my expectations, actually."

"Hey, come on, I'm not that much of a loser, right? I already had a life before troops of demons messed up everything."

"Yeah, I know… sorry." Cordelia thought of Harriet. She had not known the circumstances under which their marriage had broken when she had met her, but now that she knew about Doyle's demonic half, she had asked him during dinner.

"Listen." He had said. "We both know that I'm no hero. That I'm pretty much flawed, actually. She didn't leave me because she couldn't stand me being half demon. She left me because I couldn't stand it. There're dozens of things I did I'm not proud of. I wouldn't tell you in the first place, if it wasn't for that stupid honesty thing we decided." And because of the strange feelings he have had when Angel jumped to the Beacon and saved the day, but he hadn't mentioned that. And so he had told her not only about his broken marriage, but also about his failure in saving his fellow brachen hybrids from the Scourge.

"Hey… it's alright. I didn't mean it that way. You know."

"Yeah," Cordelia nodded. "You already proved you've got at least a little hero inside you. Remember when you saved me from that huge vampire guy? You stormed out of the office with Angel's crossbow, just to save me." She nudged him, and he felt a little uncomfortable; so she guessed he had more on his mind.

"That was a matter of course… but you know what?" He asked awkwardly. "That day I didn't really feel like a… you know, hero. That was nothing compared to the risk Angel faces almost every day. But yesterday, with that Beacon… You know, I was on the verge of jumping myself. It was the first time in my life I thought I could do something, that I could atone for my mistakes. Angel was just way too swift. But at least…" He looked at her. "At least now I know I can do it. That I've got strength in me, too."

"Told you so…" Cordelia smiled, unusually friendly. "As long as you don't try to put Angel out of the hero-business, I'm fine with it. I know he's particularly concerned about that."

By now, they arrived at Cordelia's house. Doyle brought her to her apartment door.

"Well, I hope you don't regret giving in. At least I had a great evening."

"Come on, Doyle. I had a great evening, too. If not, I would have told you a dozen times by now. You know that pretty well."

He grinned. "Yeah."

They stood opposite each other in front of the door, and neither said a word for a few seconds, until it felt awkward. Cordelia was the first to break the silence.

"I'd invite you in for a coffee, but I guess Dennis wouldn't be very enthusiastic about that…"

"I know… sleep well, princess. We'll meet tomorrow in the office." Doyle didn't even seem to be disappointed. He had expected no other ending of their date. A wave of gratitude flowed through her. Doyle was more like a gentleman than she had ever thought – or rather admitted - and definitely more than the guys she had recently been out with.

"Yeah, sleep well… Allen." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then turned around, unlocked the door and went inside, glancing at him for a moment and smiling before she closed the door. Doyle didn't move for at least two minutes. He just stood there and smiled before he turned around and went to fetch the car.

*** * ***** * * ***** * * * ***** * ***


	2. Part II

_Part II_

It was nearly 11am when she finally appeared at the headquarters. Angel was not in the office, so she went down into his flat, where she found him sitting at the table, reading the newspaper.

"So? You two had fun yesterday?"

Cordelia nodded, smiling. "Yes, it was nice… what about you? Let me take a look at your wounds."

In fact, there were few open wounds left. The skin on his face was still red and sore, but it was nothing compared to the state he was in when they returned from the harbour – at least there was skin.

"I'm fine. I'm still a bit weak when I stand up, but I guess that'll be alright by tomorrow. And the skin… well, it itches like mad."

"Oh, itching's a good sign. My nanny always said it's a vital part of the healing process. You're still weak, you say? Weird…"

"It's not only the skin and the burns, you know. Where's Doyle, by the way?"

She shrugged. "It's not even eleven yet, and you know that he seldom shows up before noon."

"Yes, but I thought…" He couldn't finish the sentence, because he was interrupted by Doyle, who just entered the flat.

"Morning. You alright, Angel? Your face is a wee bit red. Too much booze yesterday?"

"How funny."

"Angel said he's still a bit weak, so let's hope L.A. will manage one day without Mr save-the-day."

"…or is satisfied with us."

"Exactly!"

Angel smiled another of his little, sad smiles.

They spent the rest of the day together. Angel convinced Cordelia to use the time to sort files and to tidy up the filling cabinet, while Doyle went on a shopping tour, filling their demon fighting resources, and made a check on the weapons with Angel's help. Both of them were alarmed when they saw how feeble Angel appeared as soon as he stood on his legs. He could hardly stand alone and had to keep a hand at something solid, or he'd topple over.

After having stored the last file in the filling cabinet, Cordelia went downstairs again and occupied the nearest chair at the table, where Angel and Doyle were sorting bolts for the crossbow.

"Listen guys… as we already neglected you yesterday, I thought we could order some Chinese food and have a great evening together – I mean Doyle and I could order some Chinese food. I guess you're happy with liquid nutrition from the fridge."

"Come on. I don't need baby-sitters. Go out and have some fun."

"If you really think so… okay! Let's go!" Cordelia nudged Doyle, who just looked from Cordelia to Angel and back and shook his head, smiling.

"Wait a second, I'll just _uargh_!"

"You'll just what?"

She turned around and saw him sitting on his chair, pressing the palm of his hand against his eyes and forehead, and then she understood: He had a vision.

"Oh please, not now…"

She ran towards him, supporting him, while Angel prepared pencil and a paper. When the vision was over and the pain ebbed away, Doyle took paper and pencil and noted some quick words, and then he sat up again.

"I have to go."

"No, you don't. Angel can hardly walk."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I have to go."

"Don't be silly."

"Silly? Do we think again I'm just some kind of weak loser, yeah? Thank you very much." He got up.

"Doyle… please!" Cordelia had a worried sound in her voice. "Angel, say something!"

Angel turned to Doyle.

"Wait a second. What did you see?"

Doyle was impatient.

"Two things. A girl tied up and left to starve and to do whatever with her corpse afterwards, in what seems to be the closed mall not far from here. The one they're going to tear down to build a new office building. Second is some demon in his squat, which seems to be at the other side of the town. I've noted down the parts of the address I got and what the demon looks like." He pushed the note towards Angel. "You can go research and then deal with that tomorrow; I'll go and get the girl. If I hurry, I can get there before the demon even realizes what's happening."

Angel nodded.

"Okay, be careful."

Doyle's gaze met Cordelia's.

"Don't worry – I'll be back soon."

He grabbed his jacket and the little bag with emergency supplies, which was always within reach near the door, and left the room, leaving Angel and Cordelia in silence.

Five minutes later, while they were checking computer and books for information, they found his cell phone on the desk.

*** * ***

"Angel…"

Cordelia looked up from the computer screen. Alarmed by the sound of Cordelia's voice, Angel closed his book and looked at her.

"The PTB wouldn't send a message when it's pretty clear that we're not able to interfere, would they? They wouldn't send you or Doyle on a mission you can't fulfil?"

Angel froze.

"I mean… the PTB are the Powers That Be. They know that you're not really able to do anything at the moment and that it would be suicide to go fighting like this, right? So yeah, fine, they send a vision consisting of two parts, one saying: 'Go save the girl, that's easy, because nobody's near to guard her.' Second is: 'Go find the bastard that holds her captive and give him what he deserves. You've got the address, go as soon as you can.'"

Angel nodded slowly.

By now Cordelia's face was as white as a sheet.

"The demon's a teleporter."

*** * ***

Outside, Doyle decided not to take the car – maybe Cordelia would need it for research matter. It wasn't far anyway, so he might be faster walking. He hurried down four or five blocks, turned right, walked down the street for another five minutes and then he could see the building. It was completely empty, and naked concrete walls were visible through dirty glass doors and display windows. He didn't want to break them, so he checked the sides of the building for an entrance. On the far end of one side he discovered a metal-framed side door which he managed to break open. He switched on the flashlight and checked in every direction before he finally entered.

He had to search almost the entire building. At first he didn't find anything suspicious and was close to giving up, until he heard low scratching noises and muted sobbing behind one of the walls in the darkest corner of an empty shop. Then he saw something that didn't strike him when he first looked into the room: At the back was a little door of the same colour than the wall, presumably leading to some kind of lumber-room. When he tried to open it, the sobbing changed to muffled yells.

"Wait, I'll get you out, don't be afraid!"

Doyle couldn't open the door, and he didn't dare to kick it open, as he didn't know how big the room behind was – he didn't want to hurt the girl. Instead, he kept on talking to soothe her, and looked around in the room. In another corner he found an iron rod which he quickly grabbed. With its help, he managed to break the rusty lock, and then he opened the door.

Inside, he found a fair-haired young woman, a few years younger than Cordelia, who stared at him with huge eyes. She was tied up to a chair and gagged with some old and dirty cloth.

"It's alright; you'll be free in a minute."

The first thing he released her from was the gag – carefully he undid the knot at the back of her head since it was too tight to simply take it out of her mouth. The girl coughed violently and obviously still had problems breathing. Doyle took his pocket knife and started to cut the ropes that tied her arms at her back.

"Please don't move; I don't want to hurt you now. I'm Doyle."

The girl was too shocked to speak as she couldn't stop staring at him without saying a word, and she didn't move anyway. Doyle looked up at her again before he cut the ropes that tied her legs to the chair.

"Keep up, it won't be long anymore, I nearly… now!"

The last streaks of the rope tore, and the girl could finally move again, but suddenly she flinched and started to whimper.

"It's okay… we'll be right out of here, and…"

"I don't think so."

For a moment Doyle froze. Then he turned around.

In another dark corner, a pair of red eyes was staring at him.

*** * ***

"…it's not that bad?! Have you ever heard of Nightcrawler?"

Cordelia walked to the car with Angel, who heavily leaned on her, and she almost panicked.

"No. But you have to see that teleporting isn't that easy, not even for demons. It's rather exhausting and he has to concentrate a lot. It's not something you can do every two seconds in the middle of a fight. And remember that Doyle's half brachen. If he transforms, he's gonna be a lot faster and stronger. But you're right, we shouldn't lose any time, someone has to warn him."

Cordelia suppressed a hysteric laughter.

"I should go alone. You won't be helpful anyway and we're just losing time!"

"I won't let you go alone. Period."

They reached the car and Angel sped down the road towards the old mall.

*** * ***

The demon leaped towards Doyle, and the girl just crept deeper into the lumber room, tucked up her legs and pressed her arms around them, whimpering silently, while tears streamed down her face. Doyle reluctantly changed into his demon form.

"How I hate this…" he mumbled, but he couldn't even finish the sentence before he had to duck down under the demon. In the dim light of his torch he still couldn't really figure out how the demon looked like, but so far it didn't really matter. The demon seemed to be highly versatile, because he managed to push off the wall again without crashing into it, and used the additional speed to knock Doyle over. This time, he didn't manage to escape the attack.

Doyle got hit by a hard blow and rolled over the floor together with the demon, who had slimy green-brown skin with warts all over his body which resembled that of a toad, as Doyle could see and feel now. Unfortunately, Doyle lost his knife, so he had to keep the demon busy in a dirty fist fight. He was no bad fighter, but the demon was not, either. Both landed heavy blows: Doyle's lower lip soon burst open and his temple bled heavily, too, but due to the spikes the demon generally avoided to hit him directly into his face.

Doyle knew that he wouldn't survive a fist fight with that quite huge demon for long, so he had to get his knife back. He kicked his knee into the area between the demon's legs, jumped to the right and tried to grab it, but unfortunately the demon's body structure was different – he was hardly impressed. Instead, he seized Doyle's right hand in a heavy grip, turned it around until the wrist broke, and grabbed his throat with his other claw. Doyle, lying on the floor again, could hardly breathe and hardly move, but he got one arm free and felt around for the knife. He didn't have much time since by now the strangling was so bad he was almost passing out – but he couldn't find it anywhere.

Suddenly, the demon made strangling noises by himself, and the grip around Doyle's throat loosened – the girl was clutching on the demon's back, her elbow around his neck. Doyle's fingers finally found the knife and he thrust the blade deeply into the demon's neck at the only spot that wasn't covered by the girl's arm.

The demon straightened up once more in a powerful movement, and the girl lost her grip and flew into the opposite corner, but Doyle didn't lose his hold; he turned the blade in the wound, pulled it out and stuck it in again. Exhaling thick greenish-yellow blood, the demon broke down. Doyle changed his face again.

Two seconds later, Cordelia and Angel appeared in the door. Cordelia carried a battle-axe and Angel had his crossbow ready to fire.

"You're late, you missed the fun part."

Cordelia ran towards Doyle and flung her arms around him.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Angel, who still could hardly walk, stayed in the door frame, breathing heavily.

"Everything's fine, I killed the bastard. But where's…"

He looked around, and then found the girl lying near the wall on the other side of the room. Doyle and Cordelia both ran towards her, Cordelia was a little faster. She knelt beside her, taking her hand. Fortunately, she was conscious and not too badly hurt by the strike.

"Hey… everything's gonna be alright, we'll take you out now."

The girl rubbed her forehead.

"Thank you so much… I thought I'd die in there, I was so afraid! What… was this?"

"Don't think about it anymore. He's dead. I killed him," Doyle said.

Cordelia took her hand and helped her up.

The first movement was too fast for anyone to notice. Then several things happened almost at once.

Two people shouted.

"No!!"

With a yell, Doyle pushed Cordelia and the girl with his back against the wall behind them and jerked to a stop directly in front of them. Then two arrows stroke his breast.

Angel, still waiting in the doorframe and trying to recover from the run through the mall, couldn't see it happen as the corpse lay with its back towards the door.

In his death struggle, the demon had managed to draw a small double-crossbow out of some part of his cloak. Angel had seen it too late; the demon was already aiming when Angel could react. Not until the demon pulled the trigger twice could he take his own crossbow and fire. Too late he pierced the demon's heart in his back. Then he dropped the crossbow and ran as fast as possible towards his friend.

Cordelia screamed as Doyle sank to his knees, and then started to fall over. With a choked scream she caught him and helped him lie down on the floor.

"Doyle," she whispered, "No…"

"I… I'm sorry." He coughed, while blood leaked from his breast and built a little puddle on the floor.

Angel arrived and sank onto his knees next to Cordelia, who held Doyle's head in her lap, one hand on his face and one on his breast. The girl stood helplessly next to them, tears streaming down her face.

"I'll get help!" She turned around and ran out of the room.

"Do something!!" Cordelia desperately screamed at Angel, who shook his head, helpless and distressed. He knew that the bolts had been poisoned. It was too late.

"Cordy…" Doyle's voice was weak.

Cordelia concentrated on him again, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes… don't leave us now, everything will be alright, I promise!"

"Sh… I…" he had to cough again, but he was too weak. One of the bolts had harmed the trachea.

"Don't talk. We'll get help. Just hold out!" Her hand caressed his face. "Don't leave me…"

He grabbed her other hand lying on his breast and squeezed it a little. Then he gathered the last of his strength.

"I had… to do it. Remember… remember what I told you. The good fight… you never know 'til you're tested. I got that… that day… the Beacon."

Angel felt a sudden, piercing ache in his stomach and closed his eyes.

"I do remember…" she smiled, her eyes filled with tears."You did it … you are a hero."

Then she bent over and kissed him.

She raised her head again when he let go of her hand to take Angel's instead. They looked at each other, and Angel simply nodded, sad and thankful.

Then Doyle looked at Cordelia again.

"Cordy, I…"

"I know," she whispered.

Then he closed his eyes.

"Remember," Angel heard the Oracles say in his mind's eye, "do not try to trick fate or negotiate with it; this would be vain endeavour."


End file.
